The world was a nice place. Really.
If you wanted to be forgotten, that was easy. People moved on without you. Time still pressed forward. Planets still rotated, the sun still rose and sunk, everything kept moving. It granted your wish. That was one wish you could guarantee would come true.
I wanted to be forgotten. I wanted to float freely in space and let the world do what it wanted with me. Because I let go, remember? That was a nice thing. Once I let go, I was able to float.
Until the highs disappeared and I dropped back down to earth. Suddenly my limbs were heavy again. My body ached. My heart was empty. Something dark was trapped inside me and I didn't know how to get rid of it unless I took another high.
But it was true: I played basketball. Had to stay on the team.
So I met my highs at night and existed during the day. (Note: "To Exist" meant something different than "To Live.") I didn't know whether I was winning or losing.
And I didn't mean at basketball. I meant...at life.